Smooth Criminal
by Severine Halo
Summary: An A/U that fuses Ivalice with the 1930s/40s! Balthier must pay for his late father's debt to a powerful crime lord anyway he can! While thinking of a way out of his predicament, he figures out a plan that involves wooing a certain princess...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello once again ladies and gentlemen. This one was something that was buzzing in my head for quite awhile until my girlfriend started bugging me to actually write this out. I was inspired by the works of Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, and Chyd Chassire, among others. And of course they inspired people like Michael Jackson himself, thus the title of this story. This is my first FF 12 fic and my second FF fan fic. I wanted to do a setting that is reminiscence of a pre-World War 1/post-World War 2 era. I'll be conducting more research of that time to get a better idea on things. Because of this, the original storyline of FF 12 has been tweaked greatly, but does its best to remain true to the spirit of the characters and Ivalice. Also, this is a Balthier/Ashe Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter One**

Fran walked into the Dancing Moogle pub, paying no mind to its rough atmosphere. Being a viera, she was used to the leers of humes and certain other races. Balfonheim was known for its collection of vagrants and thrill-seekers, but there was only one particular adventurer she was looking for. Despite the low lighting, she had no problem scanning table after table, face after face to find him. It has been a couple of months since they last seen each other, the last being his father's funeral. All the sky pirates and gangsters were present to pay Cidolfus Demen Bunansa their respects. The man was a scientist for Archadia, but he was the primary maker of Nethicite and served as a link between the government, the hoodlums, and the product itself. The gangs and clans knew of the 'triad' of operation, but the government merely thought he sold his goods to high profile business men (which were the gangsters).

With those connections one would think the Bunansa family would be taken care of right? Wrong. The family's finances were scarce; the government acquisition of Dr. Cid's company was an unfair one, and the public prohibition of Nethicite was damaging to its sells. Because the government now ran Draklor Labs, there was no opportunity for black market profits. Cid wasn't able to pay back his investors so the entire family estate was sold off to pay most of the dues. Balthier, the name of the man she was looking for, was the third son of Cid. Those in his personal life knew him as Ffamran, his birth name. In order to not be connected with his sky pirate activities, he created the Balthier alias.

Reaching the back area of the pub, Fran noticed a shadowy figure in the corner, sitting with two sultry dressed women. These women gave the pub wrenches a run for their money, and Fran knew her Balthier wouldn't be with anything less. Moving in closer, she saw the familiar white fedora hat, with the matching suit and shoes. The hat was tilted to the side, obscuring his face. When Balthier ran off, nobody would think he would be sitting right here, downing shots of Archadian scotch. The man was always one step ahead of the game, and that's what she admired about him.

"You," she spoke just loud enough for only him to here. "Wallowing in your self-pity with a couple of carefully selected escort? Is this how you like to spend your days?"

The man that could be Balthier turned his head towards her for a second, and then focused his attention on his company. Fran should have felt insulted, but she knew better. The leading man wanted to play his role.

Taking a couple of steps back, Fran leaned against the jukebox. She let her eyes become soft for a moment and put out her hand. No sooner than she did, a bangaa placed a gil in it. Fran thanked the gentleman with a nod, and placed the gil into the machine. She then selected his favorite ragtime piece from his favorite band, The Black Mages. As the music began to play, races male and female alike started to hit the dance floor. The distraction was set, his song was playing, and now the leading man could begin his scene. Fran approached the table one more time.

"Is the male lead ready to speak?"

The man who was for a fact, Balthier gestured for his company to leave. Once the women were gone, he pushed open a seat with his foot. "Sit down," he spoke and took a sip from his drink.

Fran let the moment sink in for a bit, relieved that her partner was still alive. Thankfully, Tomaj knew of his whereabouts and was ordered by Balthier himself to only tell Fran where he was. "I must say, I was actually a little worried about you" she said.

"Worried about me?" asked Baltheir. "Really, you're killing me Fran. You worrying about anything is what worries me. You're the supporting actress after all. You keep the ball moving, even when the leading man isn't around."

"That may be, but you could have at least told me where you were going. I know there are people who want your hide, but I am always supposed to be in your confidence."

The dark haired sky pirate drew his head back for a moment, surprised at his partner's sudden emotional interest. "You wouldn't think we would eventually see each other again?"

"I knew we would, but..." Fran looked around the room before she continued. "The Boss wants your head. In case you have forgotten, he's one of the last men your father was supposed to pay back!"

Balthier sighed and dismissed the subject with a wave of his hand. "It's ridiculous what he's asking for in payment! Three million gil? What on earth could my father possibly need to borrow three million gil for? That's preposterous, and you know it Fran. This 'Boss' fellow is only trying to tie me to his organization. I'm sure he knows I used to be a Judge...he wants the political connections that my father once had...and wants to make me in debt to him in order to gain those connections."

The Boss was the unseen hand that moved the criminal underworld. Balthier was visited by his men on several occasions, demanding pay right away. The last time he saw them, they gave him a two week deadline. That was two months ago.

"Well 'Mr. Leading Man', what are we going to do about our current situation?" Fran crossed her legs and folded her arms.

Balthier looked at the crowd for the moment. "I'm still thinking on that. I was planning on heading to Rabanastre to see what things Tomaj has lined up. Since my first love was taken from me, I know someone that can take us out of here for free. That way you don't have to worry about the long driving or the crowded railroad." Balthier sighed as he thought about he first love, _The Strahl_. "Flying is still the only way to go..."

He stood up and grinned at Fran. "To be honest love, I was waiting for your arrival ever so patiently."

Fran stood up, no particular expression on her face. "I'm sure you were."

As the two headed towards the door, Fran couldn't helped but feel touched that her partner in crime still cared.

* * *

Princess Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca sat on her bed, feeling defeated for the first time in her life. Several dresses were laid out before her, and she didn't know which one to wear. While she wasn't the type to obsess about clothing, her problem was that she didn't want to wear any of these dresses. The yellow one was too puffy, the red one made her seem like a seductress, and the black one...well that one made the red one look like church clothes. Her servants were trying hard at her request to find clothes that didn't fit the 'regular' royal gallery, but to no avail they came up empty. She didn't blame them though; it was her idea to look less like a royalty since Dalmasca has become a republic. A senate was instated in order to watch over the affairs of the country's people. This was her father's dying wish, for he knew times were changing and he knew the people deserved more than what they got. Now they could vote for their decision makers and have more say at what goes on in their homeland. Ashe was ecstatic at the idea, for she loved her people more than her title.

"Your high- I mean princess, you must make a decision soon," said one of the servants. "The ball is tomorrow night, and you must be fitted for a dress. Everyone is looking forward to seeing how beautiful you will look. Emperor Vayne Solidor of Archadia will be there and-"

"Why do I have to impress people Lenore?" interrupted Ashe, who was now on her back, staring up at the ceiling. "I no longer hold any real power, which means my responsibilities are not what they used to be."

Lenore hesitated before giving a reply. "That may be princess, but you are still required to represent your family and your country with dignity and class. And you haven't attended a formal event since..." Lenore paused and bowed her head. "I apologize if I spoke out of place..."

"It's okay Lenore. You were only being honest. And you're right about what you said. I still have my duties, even after the deaths of my father and husband. It can't be helped that sickness both claimed them, but I can do something about the self-esteem of my people as well as my own." Ashe sat up. "Try fetching me a couple of more dresses? Try to find some in white or blue? Maybe even purple will do."

Lenore's face beamed with joy. "Right away princess!" The woman left the room, along with the other servants.

Ashe stood up and examined herself in the mirror. She was only in her nightie, but she felt no shame in her body. Daily training with Rabanastre's finest kept her form in the finest condition, as well as her battle skills. Firearms were beginning to take central role on the battlefield, but she still enjoyed training with the sword. Those who still knew how to use one as well as the mystic arts were as formidable as any expert gunner. If Rasler was here, he would make fun of her hesitancy towards the new. She never liked to rush, only enjoy the moments as they come to you. He understood this and on their wedding night, he took such precautions. Closing her eyes, Ashe wrapped her arms around herself as if they were his arms holding her, caressing her. Despite the fact their short-lived marriage was for political purposes, they cared for one another very much. Rasler was the finest man she has ever met thus far, besides her bodyguard Basch von Rosenburg.

The two men were actually close comrades, having fight in the Ivalice War a couple of years ago against the Archadian Empire. After the previous emperor passed on, Vayne Solidor took the throne and ended the war, thus signing a peace treaty with Dalmasca, and Lord Rasler's Nabradia. Stress had taken the lives of both rulers, and an infection stole Rasler from Ashe's embrace. It was time for a change, and all three nations were willing to let bygones be bygones, with Archadia's financial assistance to rebuild the towns it destroyed in the war. While she appreciated the gesture, Ashe couldn't help but feel a little untrustworthy of the large empire. Maybe it was too soon for forgiveness, but as Rasler once said "time waits for no man or child."

Ashe sighed, and sat back down. Despite two years since his death, the senate has been pushing her to find a new suitor. Ashe didn't like the idea one bit, but they claimed the people needed a reason to celebrate. They needed to forget about the war and the losses they suffered. They needed to forget about the current financial struggle that was becoming worse every passing day. Ashe understood their motives, and sympathized with the people, but she wasn't quite sure if she was ready to move on. There was so much of Rasler she didn't get the chance to know...so much of him she wanted to discover. Her fear was the possibility that she may never meet someone like him again. The senate suggested Vayne, but she laughed at the notion. While he was crucial to the ending of the war, there was just something about him she didn't trust. She couldn't quite place her finger on it. Maybe one day she'll find a man who she could come to possibly love and settle down with, but right now there was more important matters.

Like finding a dress.

* * *

It was late in the evening when Balthier and Fran arrived in Rabanastre. Many of the citizens were just coming back home from work, including the newsies who sold papers on every corner. A Nu Mou saxophone player stood under a streetlight, conducting the activities of the night with his music. Balthier thought it was a little early for the solo jazz players to do their thing, but the evening rush was one of the few moments in the day where any real money could be made. Flipping a gil in the musician's hat, Balthier was soon approached by a blond haired kid wearing a white shirt and suspenders. The kid looked not too much younger than himself, but just at the peak age to be a newsie. He held a newspaper in his hand, which he held out to Balthier. He flashed a smile, showing off his tan features and began to speak.

"Looking sharp sir! Would a suave gentleman like you like the last copy of today's news?"

Balthier rubbed his chin while considering giving up another gil. "Sure. I must say, I admire your hustle." He gave the kid a gil, and took the paper.

"Thank you very much sir!" The kid bowed and watched as Balthier walked away with Fran.

Balthier could feel those same pair of blue eyes on him. Turning around, he decided to ask the kid a question. "What's your name?"

"My name is Vaan! I noticed that you guys got off an airship! Are you sky pirates?"

Fran looked at Balthier for an answer, who just shrugged his shoulders. "If you want us to be."

Vaan was going to continue the conversation for a bit more, but he heard his friend Penelo's voice calling him.

"Vaan!" called the girl who could pass for his sister. "Let's go! Migelo's going to be angry if we don't come back with the profit!"

Balthier looked in Penelo's direction and then nodded at Vaan. "I think that's your cue to exit the stage. It was a pleasure meeting you Vaan. I have a feeling that our paths will cross again."

Vaan replied with a nod of his own, and then ran off with Penelo. Once the two children were out of sight, Fran crossed her arms.

"Did you really mean that?" she asked. "About your paths crossing again?"

Balthier just shrugged. "It sounded good to say at the time."

The two sky pirates turned around and continued on their way to the Sandsea.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hello once again! I thank you all for the reviews thus far. I understand if this story seems to start out kind of slow, but I just needed to give a proper background for whats going on. Things are going to kick into high gear very soon!

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** Chapter Two**

The Sandsea was just as busy tonight as it was any other night. The 'who's who' of the clans and the gangs were all there, showing off the things they bought from their latest payout. Sky pirates took up space at the bar, talking over one another while drinking mug after mug of Rabanastre Draft. Made men sat at their respective tables, conversing among themselves on topics from family, to who needed to be 'whacked'. The Nasty Bangaa Band provided the musical entertainment, playing a popular jazz tune everyone knew. Tobacco smoke lingered in the atmosphere, creating a foggy visual effect mixed in with the natural low lighting of the room. Casual civilians took to the dance floor, swinging the night away. The place was the same as Balthier had left it. He and Fran navigated their way through the crowd, after coming in through the back. That was the entrance used by those with 'special privileges'. Balthier made not have been a made man, but his exploits as a sky pirate and his way with words had placed him high on the popularity scale. For the occasion, Fran wore a curvy backless black dress, which naturally enhanced her already enchanting features. Balthier personally picked it out for her which she found both predictable and thoughtful.

Finding their way to the bar, Balthier and Fran sat down where they saw Tomaj behind the counter. They watched the man serve a couple of drinks before saying anything. Balthier took out a gil, flipped it into the air and watched as it landed in the Dalmascan rum Tomaj had in his hands.

"I think I'll have that for tonight my good man," he proclaimed, while adjusting his hat.

The skinny club owner turned to Balthier, shaking his head. "Somethings never change huh?"

Balthier shook his head. "If they did, then what would be the point of anything?"

"Touche." Tomaj handed him the drink.

"Hey!" shouted an angry (and kind of drunk) patron. "That was mine!"

Baltheir placed a hand on his neighbor's shoulder. "How about the rest of your drinks are on me for the rest of the night? There's no point in two civilized humes fighting one another."

The man paused, his red eyes trying to formulate some kind of clarity. "Gnh, fine."

Balthier patted the man on his back. "You made a smart decision my fellow drinker. Tomaj! Drinks for my newest comrade!"

"Sure thing." Tomaj relayed the news to one of his bartenders and then gestured for Balthier and Fran to follow him. "Come with me to my office, we'll discuss business there."

Balthier picked up his glass, and handed to Fran. "Hold on to this. My performance requires for me to have free hands."

Fran rolled her eyes. "Whatever will you do without me?"

"That's the spirit." Balthier stood up, and followed Tomaj with Fran in tow. As they started to walk, Balthier methodically arranged his hands in variety of ways from adjusting his hat, fixing his suit, and playing with his cufflinks.

They traveled through the kitchen and into a small hallway with the back exit on one end and Tomaj's office on the other. Inside the office, Tomaj sat behind a desk filled with a mess of papers. Balthier and Fran sat in the two velvet seats in front of the desk. After clearing the area, Tomaj leaned forward and smiled.

"How are you holding up my friend?"

"Pretty good, considering one of the underworld's most powerful bosses is trying to capture me," Balthier took back his glass and continued his drinking. "Please tell me you have something for me. A hunt, some freelance work...something."

Tomaj shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know if I have anything at the moment, Balthier. I must admit, its kinda surprising to see you struggling like this. But then again, if you're on the run, then it would be hard for anyone to make a living. This reminds me..." Tomaj's face became serious. "The Boss' men are in town. They were even here tonight, asking around for you. Since many of these gangs are tired of The Boss' iron grip, nobody has said a peep. To be honest, there are those who want to take him out of the picture. The only problem is nobody knows who he is, or where his base of operations is located."

Balthier stared at a painting of the Rabnastre skyline on the wall. "Well as you know, I need three million gil as soon as possible. Hopefully, when I finally give it to The Boss, he'll keep me alive."

Tomaj tilted his head to the side. "How did your father end up owing The Boss that much money?"

Balthier sighed. "He claims that he was funding my father for a secret project involving Nethicite. His men wouldn't give me the exact details, but it kinda makes sense since he supposedly died from Nethicite poisoning..."

"Well if any hunts come up or a job that needs to be done, you'll be the first to know. Things would have been much easier if you still had the Strahl. Most jobs these days involve some kind of long distance transportation." Tomaj looked at Fran. "Now she on the other, she could make a killing on her own..."

Fran's glare intimidated the club owner into changing the subject.

"I'll hook you up with a residence for as long as you're staying here. You know, the castle is throwing a ball tomorrow night. It'll give you the chance to unwind, and stay away from this area for a little while. I can get you in, even though you'll have to go under an alias."

"A little role playing eh? I think I can take a fancy towards that. What do you say Fran?" For the first time today, Balthier's spirit seemed to be lifted. And of course, Fran wouldn't disappoint.

"Just as long as you don't introduce me as your faithful concubine."

"Darling, the situation called for an explanation."

"If you wasn't so busy trying to stare up my dress while claiming to be fixing my stockings, we wouldn't have never gotten into that mess."

Bathier grinned. "You remembered. This means I made quite an impression on you."

"Oh _you _made an impression alright..."

Balthier turned to Tomaj. "Count us in," he said. "A little dancing and mingling will do us some good."

_ And some good old fashioned 'borrowing'..._

_

* * *

_

Vaan and Penelo made their way to Migelo's shop, satisfied with today's earnings. Due to the upcoming ball, there were plenty of potential customers in town, preparing for Princess Ashelia's appearance after two years of seclusion. 'Lower class' citizens such as themselves barely saw any important figures of Dalmasca anyhow, but you know things are sour when the upper class citizens don't even get a glimpse of the princess. Vaan could relate to the princess' sorrow; he lost his brother Reks to The Ivalice War. If it wasn't for Penelo and little Kytes, he would've shut himself from the world completely. Their support created a great amount of enthusiasm in Vaan. Every day he trained his body to get stronger, everyday he found ways (both legally and illegally) to put money in his pocket. He even affored to buy himself and Penelo some shoes of decent quality.

Migelo did what he could to help the children earn their keep, but he was a busy bangaa with ties to the government. In fact, Migelo was preparing to cater the royal ball tomorrow. While the castle had its own chefs and supplies, Migelo was a natural when it came to organizing a party. He was also a one of a kind chef, whose recipes few could replicate.

Vaan and Penelo entered the back of the store, where Migelo was busy going over a couple of papers. The two newsies stood in the doorway until the older bangaa finally looked up.

"Vaan, Penelo" he greeted. "Just the people I wanted to see."

"Really?" Excitement began to well up inside of Penelo as she and Vaan entered the room.

"You have another one of your errands for us to run?" Vaan sighed at the prospect of having yet another minor task for him to do, especially one that required him to travel across town.

Migelo paid no attention to Vaan's attitude. "Why on the contrary, Vaan. Two of my men called out sick for tomorrow event, so I'm going to need some extra hands..."

Penelo thought she was going to faint. "You mean we get to go to the palace! I must be dreaming!"

Migelo laughed. "Dreaming you are not little one. I have already picked out some proper clothing for the two of you to wear. Try them on, and tell me what you think." Migelo handed each one a pair of identical clothing.

Penelo unfolded the outfit and saw that it was a white button shirt with a black bow tie and black skirt. Vaan had a similar one with black pants. Both outfits came with a black vest.

"So basically we're waiters?" Vaan raised an eyebrow.

"Don't be so negative!" Penelo slapped Vaan lightly on the shoulder. "Migelo, we'll be honored to come to the palace with you!"

Migelo cracked a smile. "I knew the two of you wouldn't disappoint me. Kytes told me that the two of you sold out your newspapers today. You two take the night off, as well as tomorrow morning. That will give you a chance to unwind a bit before the ball.

Vaan shrugged his shoulders. "I can deal with that. I'll just practice my sword fi-"

"Vaan!" Penelo shouted, with her hands on her hips. "Don't tell me you're going down to the sewers again! You know how dangerous it is! And on top of that, you're walking around with a sword you don't have a license for!"

"Shes right," agreed Migelo. "The last thing you want is to get in trouble with the police."

"I'm not going to get into trouble for anything!" Vaan yelled. He then gave Penelo a look for ratting him out. "And for _your _information, I know how to take care of myself!" With that said, Vaan walked out of Migelo's office.

Penelo was quiet for a moment before saying anything. "He can get a little touchy sometimes."

Migel shook his head slowly. "Hume boys all want to grow up too fast. That's why they die young."

Penelo sighed. "I hope he doesn't become one of them..."

* * *

The clanging of sword upon sword could be heard throughout the west wing of Rabanastre palace. For nearly two hours Ashe and Basch was sparring without taking a break. This was a test of Ashe's endurance and will power, to see if she can hold her own against the toughest of opponent's for an extended period of time. Ashe was Basch's finest student, as well as one of his most challenging opponents. Basch felt this training created a positive outlet for Ashe to release her stress and forget about her anxieties. He was glad she was recovering from her dual loss, and hoped Rasler and the king blessed him for his involvement. If the senate didn't take over, Ashe would be queen, which was something he would've preferred. He didn't like the senate and their political ways, always making behind the door deals when it came to the business of Dalmasca and her people. Ashe's rule would have given the kingdom integrity, something that hasn't been seen since her father.

After practice, the two sat down next to each other, catching their breaths. Basch watched Ashe from the corner of his eye. She was exceptionally beautiful, even after a sweaty sword duel with her brown hair mashed to her face. Like Ashe, Basch preferred the sword, though he was an excellent marksman. In The Ivalice War his rank was captain, and after the war he stepped down from the position to personally ensure the safety of the princess. So far he didn't have to do that much protection, with the exception of Ashe's imagination when it came to outside these palace walls. She wanted to travel unconventionally; walk the world like some kind of vagrant. She wanted to converse among the locals, and observe the sky pirates and the rest of the riffraff. She wanted to experience what she called 'true freedom'. He could understand why she felt this way, but it wasn't in her responsibilities to leave her people in such a way. He told her as much and surprisingly enough she didn't protest. That's what he admired about his favorite student: she always listened.

"Basch," Ashe began, after putting down her towel. "If you were in position to, would you marry me?"

Embarrassment struck the Landis native like a lightning bolt. "P-princess!" he began to stutter, his face turning red. "I could never do such a thing! It's not right to-"

"Calm down 'Sir Loyal Knight of My Late Father and Husband'" Ashe giggled. "I was only asking a hypothetical question. I know where you stand on the subject. Personally, I view you too much like a brother to even imagine such a thing. But, if it meant that I wouldn't end up with someone like say...Emperor Vayne, would you do it?"

Basch was quiet for a long time before he decided on his answer. "Princess," he began. "I would do whatever it takes to ensure the safety and integrity of you and the people of Dalmasca. Vayne probably desires your hand in marriage in order to annex our land. I always felt he was more like his father than anything. The senate is probably suggesting such a thing because of the pay out Vayne promised. I don't know if such a thing is true, but it wouldn't surprise men if it was. Do not worry about such trivial things at the moment. We are now in a state of peace; enjoy it while it lasts."

Ashe nodded. Any day they could go to war with Archadia, or any other nation that wants to pick at their injured state. Dalmasca had to remain strong, and she had to show her people how to do such. For that, she thanked Basch for reminding her as such.

"You ready to go again?"

Basch laughed. "Princess, with stamina like that, you would have been the perfect soldier."

"Either that or make one lucky man very happy..."

Ashe giggled again when she saw Basch's face turn tomato red. She could get used to this whole embarrassment thing.

* * *

A/N: With all this teasing of potential Balthier/Fran and Basch/Ashe, you may be wondering when some actual Balthier/Ashe will come into play? Well, look no further than the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry that this chapter took too long to write. Between real life hassles and the demand for Duality, I tried my best to work on what little that I could. The next chapter should come sooner than expected...

* * *

**Chapter Three**

The turnout at the ball was as expected; every dignitary in the region came to attend the formal event. Foreign ambassadors from the surrounding countries strolled past the guards, showing off the latest fashion of their homeland. Balthier expected no less from a Rabanastre event. A gathering this large can only be surpassed by an Archadian ball. He and Fran were posing as dignitaries from the empire of Rozarria, a region that had few representatives tonight. There were those who were confused by the Viera's noble position, but she was revealed to be Balthier's bodyguard (something Fran felt more comfortable being than a wife or escort).They did their best to stay away from actual Rozzarian officials, fearing that any contact could complicate their situation. Balthier wasn't here to make friends. He might make a few enemies, but he didn't mind. He already had too many to keep track of.

The Rabanastre treasury was going to solve his problems. He already worked out a plan that would involve only Fran and himself. They will steal The Goddess' Magicite, which will not only be enough to pay off their debt, but he should have enough to purchase a new airship. Well, either that or get The _Strahl_ back. They had to find a way to get past the guards and obtain a key to the treasury itself. He was thinking of using his fake 'status' in order to get a tour of the palace, but Fran advised against it. The guards will have time to get a good look at their faces, thus making hiding out next to impossible once the feat was accomplished.

Balthier needed some kind of diversion...some way to distract the guards here so they wouldn't see him Fran make their way to the treasury. From there, the two of them will take care of the soldiers there and figure something out.

"Excuse me sir?"

Baltheir turned around to see a blonde haired girl with a tray of appetizers. The girl tilted her head to the side. "Hors d'oevres?"

Balthier nodded and took some caviar. Fran passed, and the girl left to approach another group of people. Stroking his head, Balthier kept his eyes on the young lady whose smile seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face. She looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it.

The sky pirate's thoughts were soon interrupted by an eruption of trumpets. The attendees turned their attention the large stairway on the other side of the ballroom. People gathered around as the royal presenter began to speak.

"Presenting Princess Ashelia B'nargain Dalmasca," the man simply spoke, and backed away as a small entourage made their way down the stairs. Following a group on royal guards was a couple of sevrant maids and the most beautiful woman in white Balthier has ever seen.

Sandy blonde hair was tied back to reveal a non-expressive soft resembling a nervous bride being touched for the first time. Fierce blue eyes with a grey tint were shown in contrast to the rest of her dainty features. Balthier could tell she was a woman of action; someone who preferred the battlefield more than the palace. He liked women of action, especially those who could barely hold it in.

For a brief moment, their eyes seemed to make contact, a split second of eternity, bound by momentarily interest. Balthier averted his eyes towards the hall that would eventually lead to the treasury. Fran took notice as well, and the two made their way through the crowd and begin to stroll against the wall. Being careful not to be spotted, they waited for the right time for several guards to look the other way, and they dashed into the hallway, towards their desired destination. They were safe from wandering eyes, with the exception of a blond haired teenager whose eager behavior would soon get the best of him.

* * *

Ashe tried her best to deal with the prepared comments and conversations from everyone she passed. She felt congested, being surrounded by so many people who 'seemed' pleased to see her. The only thing that was going through her mind at that point was those insightful brown eyes she made contact with a moment ago. The mysterious gentleman might have looked the part, but he didn't fit in with the atmosphere. She could tell he wasn't here for her, or rather anyone else for that matter. His viera companion stood out as well, her eyes searching the area, seeing if they were being watched. All eyes might have been on the princess, but Ashe watched them closely as they begin to sneak along the wall and somehow made it pass her own guards towards the treasury.

She thought about saying something at first, but decided that the guards would eventually catch them. It was obvious they were after the Goddess' Magicite; every so often some fool would try to infiltrate the palaces' defenses for the royal relic and fail miserably. Part of her became increasingly curious though, for she was almost certain that there was a chance those two could succeed. It was as if she almost _wished _it.

One of the senate members interrupted her train of thought, and dragged her across the room, over to where a tall long haired man stood surrounded by guards. Ashe narrowed her eyes as she stared. It was Vayne Carudas Solidor, Emperor of Archadia. The man gave her either a warm smile or sarcastic smirk (she couldn't tell) as he bowed briefly.

"Your majesty," he said, his voice like rising horns during a symphony. "It is a pleasure to see you again. It has been quite sometime..."

Ashe hesitated before giving a curtsey of her own; she sensed there was something with this man, something that seemed imposing, but yet welcoming. It puzzled her, dealing with someone whose vibe was so sporadic.

"It has." Ashe looked to Basch was comfort, and felt better to see that he was still by her side.. "You already know my loyal guard, Basch fon Ronsenberg."

Basch bowed, keeping his eyes on Vayne and the young boy that stood next him.

"I see that the young prince is here as well," spoke Basch, smiling at the young man known as Larsa Feerinas Solidor. This was the only person from the House of Solidor that Basch was actually quite fond of.

Larsa blushed slightly at the warrior's kind gesture and gave a bow of his own. "I am grateful to be here to see you my lady," he spoke, his eyes for Ashe clearly filled with admiration. "I apologize for not being able to make it to the funeral service a couple of years ago, I was away for quite some time."

Ashe waved a hand. "That's alright my lord. I'm glad you could make it." From the corner of her eye, Ashe could see more senate members coming her way. Seeing her converse with the House of Solidor fit in exactly with their plans. She didn't think too kindly of that. "I'm sorry your majesty, but I have other guests to greet..." Before Vayne could say anything, Ashe made her away from the Archadian representatives, and made her way towards Nabradian officials.

There was no way she was going to marry Vayne Solidor. There was something about him...the way his eyes wouldn't take themselves off of her. She needed some space from that penetrating glance, and if she was going to spend all night doing as such, then so be it.

* * *

Balthier waited patiently as the last treasury guard fell to the floor. It frustrated him to no end that one of Fran's spells simply wouldn't work on any of the four soldiers. The palace was smart to equip them with enchanted items, protecting them from a variety of abnormal effects. Balthier had to rely on the use of a blowgun, and Fran's ever impressive kicks as backup. With the guards temporarily incapacitated, Balthier and his companion stole the treasury key and entered inside the most expensive room in all of Dalmasca.

Gold jewelry, diamond encrusted armor, and weapons glowing with magical radiance filled the silk draped room. In the middle of the room on top of velvet pillows sat the Goddess' Magicite. Balthier's eyes widened at the sight of it. This seemed all too easy, having one of Ivalice's most priceless items so easily available to the most proficient of thieves. Even if this was to be a fake, he shouldn't have too much of a problem selling it to some greedy collector. The item was said to possess immense power, but Balthier could care less about its abilities. He just needed the payment; the gil required to buy his life back. He could probably give The Boss the Magicite itself and everything would be settled. Then again, it had to be worth much more than three million gil.

Balthier rubbed his chin, reviewing the details of the matter at hand. Fran's eyes narrowed as she looked past Balthier, and rose up a finger towards him. The former Judge knew what that gesture meant. They were being watched.

Knowing that if it was a castle official, an alarm would have gone off, or soldiers would be storming the room. It had to be someone else, someone who managed to follow their trail. Who was that good to keep a sharp eye on their movements and were able to track them down this far without being noticed? Feeling more impatient by the second, Balthier decided to nip this in a bud.

"Who goes there? Don't try to hide or run, we know you're there."

When the mystery accomplice was revealed, it wasn't the fact that it was a kid that bothered him, it was the fact it was the newsie that sold him the paper yesterday. Seeing the sheepish look from the boy's face, Balthier figured it was a good idea to take it easy on the whelp.

"So, newsboy by day, thief by night," he began, sounding a little impressed. "Is there anything you can't do...what's your name again?"

The boy's eyes gained some color back after the previous scare. "V-Vaan, its Vaan sir."

"Vaan..." Balthier let the name roll around his mouth for a few seconds. "That's right, now I remember. What are you doing at an extravaganza like this, Vaan?"

"I'm working for my boss, Migelo." Vaan glanced briefly around the room. "Are you planning some kind of heist?"

Fran looked at Balthier as if asking him what to do. He already knew her way of problem solving was threatening the little bugger's life until he peed his pants, and hogtie him before the proper authorities arrived.

Balthier's solution was a more subtle one. He knew how adventurous young minds like Vaan's think, and he knew they preferred fun like this, even if it meant breaking the law and being tired for theft and treason. With what he had in mind, he was about to make Vaan's life.

"Vaan," the sky pirate began. "We are planning a heist, and we would like you to take part in it. Called it 'initiation'."

"Initiation?" Vaan looked slightly confused. "For what?"

"For being one of us..." Balthier leaned in close before speaking again. "A _sky pirate._"

Vaan blinked a couple of times. "A-a sky pirate! Really!"

Balthier put a finger to his lips. "Yes, now hush or we'll all be in no condition to be pirating at all. If you want to play a part in the leading man's cast, then you must know your role."

Vaan was beginning to like how this man spoke. "What role can I play?"

Balthier grinned. The boy didn't even ask for their names. "It's a special part Vaan. It's a part that I specifically designed for greenhorns like you."

"Greenhorn? I've been pick-pocketing since I was five!"

"Pick-pocketing is small scale my friend. This involves something...shall we say more _elaborate._"

"What is it?" Vaan could hardly hide the grin from his face. The suspense was killing him.

Balthier turned to Fran and smiled. This was the part he loved the most on his 'missions'.

"Bait."


End file.
